


Four H/D Drabbles Written for Albus Dumbledore Quotes

by Vaysh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Harry/Draco Last Drabble Writer Standing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4728335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaysh/pseuds/Vaysh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four H/D drabbles written for the 2015 Last Drabble Writing Standing-Challenge on <span></span><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/slythindor100/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/slythindor100/"></a><b>slythindor100</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Keeps You Brave

**Written for the Quote:** "Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike."

  


Harry thinks about it years later, in a musty tent, the wind brushing across the canvas and Ron snoring softly beside Hermione – that handshake between him and Malfoy that never happened. 

It's a vague memory, on a jumpy train. He remembers "the wrong sort" and Malfoy should have never said that, because what Harry remembers like nothing else is _Ron_. Ron who'd thought the lightning scar on Harry's face was cool but did not linger. Ron who'd told him all about Quidditch and Chocolate Frog Cards. Ron who liked Harry just so, no questions asked, and Harry is pretty sure if he hadn't had the money to buy the cart empty, Ron would have shared his sandwiches with him.

Malfoy's dislike was different. To this day Harry isn't sure how much Malfoy knew of him. What he had thought of him once he'd figured out the scrawny boy from Madam Malkin's was the Chosen One. Harry is pretty certain Malfoy did not dislike him right away. That came later – after Harry refused to shake Malfoy's hand. After Harry chose Ron for a friend and not Malfoy. After Harry got Sorted into Gryffindor.

In this tent, in this night, Harry thinks of Malfoy disliking him, and it's a bright thing. 

Harry clings to it while he listens for quiet steps approaching in the darkness, for the sharp snap of Hermione's _Salvio Hex_. He clings to being liked _and_ disliked in the wizarding world. Harry remembers the child he was, feeling like a nuisance, a burden. Like he wasn't worth the air he was breathing, much less the food he was eating. He isn't going back to this, ever. For this is what keeps Harry brave in the night: That for all that Malfoy hates him, he does see him. And not just the lightning bolt scar or the "half-blood" Gryffindor – but him, Harry. The Boy Who Would Not Shake His Hand.

  



	2. To Cast A Spell And Mean It

**Written for the Quote:** "Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it." 

  


" _Cruci–_ " – cast half-mangled in a waterlogged room with a girl ghost screaming murder, and Draco's face and chest are laced with pain. The water around him turns into foggy swirls of red. Potter kneels beside him on the floor. His spell, _Sectumsempra_ , rings in Draco's ears and he wonders – the flash of a thought before he loses consciousness – how the Golden Boy knows magic so dark and means it, too.

" _Crucio!_ " – cast in a fire-lit room with Voldemort's voice threatening the man writhing on the floor as much as the boy standing over him, wand raised and shaking. The walls are alive with shadows. Malfoy's face is white and terrified. His Unforgivable echoes in Harry's mind and he knows – through the pain in his scar, struggling to cut the connection to Voldemort – that there is nothing voluntary about this spell. That Malfoy means it, and doesn't mean it at all. 

" _Crucio..._ " – cast so softly it's barely audible, in a flat overlooking Knockturn Alley. Curtains move with the night breeze and the candle sputters, rekindles; pale-blond hair shimmers in its golden light. There's a wooden chair in the room, a desk, an old-fashioned trunk. The narrow bed that Harry lies upon, naked, metal cuffs around his ankles and wrists. The spell washes over him, the sensation half pain, half sharp tingles of excitement, like a knife that _almost_ cuts his skin but doesn't draw blood. Malfoy kneels at the foot of the bed, a warm solid presence, eyes trained on Harry's face. It's taken them years to come to this – to accept this need and give in to it. But now they are here and Harry nods, encouraging Malfoy to raise his wand once more. 

" _Crucio_ " – the spell is sharp, bright; it tastes of metal and rain. It means: I can give you what you need. It means: Let me, I need to. It means: This is us.

  



	3. Three-Person Mission

**Written for the Quote:** "We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."

 

They don't usually go on missions one person short. But Cho is on Auror business in Italy, and Malfoy – ex-Pureblood supremacist, ex-Death Eater, ex-Azkaban convict – cannot be trusted. They left him at the office furiously filling out reports.

Ron is unconscious, right leg bent in places no leg should bent. Harry's wrist throbs from when his wand was yanked from him with unexpected force. An Incarcerous has him tied to a cage.

The wizard is tall, broad-shouldered, a familiar steel mask covering his face; he's the leader of the Veela trafficking ring. He takes two strides towards Harry when the caged Veela chirps – a gentle sound underneath the harsh neon light.

"Idiots," Malfoy says when he takes the wizard out with a Stunner. 

"Idiots," he mutters when he ends the Incarcerous.

"Idiots." He moves Ron to take the weight of his injured leg.

He doesn't say a word – doesn't need to – when he touches Harry's wrist and pulls him close.

  



	4. A Life In Socks

**Written for the Quote:** "One can never have enough socks."

 

A single orange sock greets Draco when he pulls the drawer open. Lily loved those as a girl, pumpkin pattern and all. Five thick pairs of woollen socks lie to the left, each decorated with an H in colours only Molly would dare to match. To the right are stacks of Auror-issue socks. The DMLE logo is woven into the grey thread. There's a blue and white striped pair Draco's never seen before. Stuffed in the back are Muggle socks, the wool frayed, the rubber loose. A wrapper from Twilfitt and Tatting's still holds together a new pair, a gift for Harry's ninety-seventh birthday. The black silk is elegant, fitting a funeral. 

Yet Draco chooses a pair of Muggle socks: worn, holey, warm. For these are the socks Harry would wear on his journey beyond the veil. And he will.

  



End file.
